Flights

MERIDIANS

A woman named Ingibjörg was travelling along the prime meridian. She was from Iceland, and she began her journey in the Shetland Islands. She complained that it was, of course, impossible to travel in a straight line, since she was totally dependent upon roads and ship routes and train tracks. But she was trying to stick to her guns, continuing south, manoeuvering along the line as best she could, in a zigzag.

She talked about it so vividly and so enthusiastically that I didn’t have the courage to ask her why she was doing it. Although the answer to that kind of question is more or less always: why not?

As she spoke, I saw in my mind’s eye the image of a drop sliding down the surface of a globe.

And yet I find the idea unsettling to this very day. Meridians don’t exist, after all. Not really.